Epitaph On Wm. Hood, Senr., In Tarbolton
Here Souter Hood in death does sleep;
To hell if he’s gane thither,
Satan, gie him thy gear to keep;
He’ll haud it weel thegither.
About This Book
The collection assembles lyrical songs, narrative poems, satirical pieces, epistles, epitaphs, and fragments that shift between convivial drinking verses, tender laments, and comic storytelling. Many lyrics were shaped to traditional airs and preserve vernacular speech, while longer works portray rural labor, domestic scenes, and compassionate encounters with animals. Satire targets religious hypocrisy and social pretension, and several poems take a direct, personal tone of moral reflection or affectionate address. The selections alternate moods and forms, emphasizing melodic phrasing and a versatile technical range.